Friday, December 18, 2015

Different Perspectives

Yesterday I dialed a wrong number. A woman picked up the phone and, in disjointed, hard to understand English, said hello. I had a hard time hearing her due to all the noise in the background (children). I realized immediately I had not called a spray wash company.

I said "Oh, I'm sorry, wrong number." The woman's voice got a bit strident and she said "no, my number, not wrong".

I told her I had dialed the wrong number. She got even more heated, "no, no, right number".

I tried again telling her I meant to call someone else. Nope, I sure didn't. Or so she said.

Finally I just said, 'I'm sorry' again, and hung up.

It's the little things in life that sometimes stick in your head, ramble around, popping up at strange times (like when I first woke up this morning).

I don't have a clue which country in our great big ol' world that she came from. In my imagination that poor woman paced the floor worrying that someone was going to change her number, take it away or thought she was illegally using that phone number. I have concocted stories in my head off and on...she came from a communist controlled country...the children managed to get her out...she watches their little ones while they work to make it in America...

I wonder if that simple wrong number brought back bad memories for her?

She probably hung up the phone and said "stupid American woman, how can she think my number is wrong?" and then completely forgot about it.

A story with no ending because I will probably never know.